Immolation
by Skepsis
Summary: The crone spoke softly, “There was, millennia ago, a Fire Lord whose inner turmoil was inconceivable. It was said that he experienced a metamorphosis. A cocoon of flames devoured him. What emerged was...supernatural.”
1. Immolation

**Summary:** The crone spoke softly, "There was, millennia ago, a Fire Lord whose inner turmoil was inconceivable. It was said that he experienced a metamorphosis. A cocoon of flames devoured him. What emerged was..."

**A/N:** While the story branches from the final conflict at Ba Sing Se, I will incorporate some ideas from the series (like the Painted Lady). I tried to make this chapter serious, but it came off as funny (or not.) I guess that's just the kind of person I am. I hope I can recover from this slip up; the majority of the story will not be funny.

* * *

Immolation

Azula calculatingly observed her brother fight in the eerie catacombs of the Earth Capital. The prince, who was once _eons_ below her in ability, was expertly twirling silky orange flames around himself in a most impressive manner.

Zuko calmly weaved searing strings of fire around him; the twin blazes easily lacerating anything they came in contact with. Her brother fluently fended off the water tribe girl's physical assault as well as her emotional attacks (about him betraying her or something of the sort, the princess couldn't believe that her brother had become a lady's man.)

Yes, her brother had changed; Prince Zuko was now the prince he was always meant to be. It was clear that he was indeed the son of the most prodigious fire bender in over a century. Ozai would be proud.

Seeing him now, her childish suspicion that her true brother had been switched at birth by some plotting rebel seemed rather ridiculous.

He was, without a doubt, her brother.

Impressed with his prowess and absolutely amazed with his progress, she was stupefied with the variation of his style. Sending jutting walls of flame forward like an earth bender, fluidly spinning magma-like fire around him like a water bender, and sending gusting spheres of inferno forward like an air bender, he manipulated fire like anyone other than fire bender would. It was eccentric, it was genius!

But then again, why was she surprsised? He was, afterall, _her_ brother.

It was at about this time that a fast moving projectile hit the allegedly evil princess in the stomach, knocking the air out of her. Azula looked up, displeased with herself for being distracted so easily, and downright pissed that a god damn wooden boomerang had hit her in her abdominal region.

She noted, with a hint of malice, that the stupid water tribe boy had arrived and was wearing an even stupider grin, clearly satisfied with the blow he had landed.

Well, if there was one thing Azula liked more than making people miserable. It was making _boys_ miserable.

Quickly checking the jutting crystals the Avatar had disclosed himself within; Azula indifferently pointed her finger at the water boy that stood a good distance away. The apprehensive reaction the boy had because of the simple gesture awarded her great pleasure and she calmly smirked while muttering bemusedly, "Ty Lee will be so disappointed in me."

Azula then launched a powerful surge of blue fire from her index finger, thoroughly enjoying the incredible pressure and power that forced itself from her digit in a lethally concentrated blast.

The water warrior, however, skilfully dodged the inferno that crashed into (and decimated) the pillar of stone behind him.

But he was uncharacteristically angry when he stood up...in fact, no one had ever really seen him so miffed.

The majority of his precious ponytail had been turned to ash.

_And He Was Pissed._

Unfortunately for the angry boy, Azula had expected his dexterity, and by the time his eyes adjusted from the luminous blast of fire back to the dark catacombs, the princess was in front of him and landed a painful blow to his chest that consequently constricted his breathing.

Gasping for air, the boy stumbled back; she kicked him, fully expecting a feeble block.

But he did the most disconcerting thing.

His eyes had focused behind her, leaving himself open to the blow so that he could freely view the sight behind her. Performing a nimble acrobatic feat (and sending a wave of fire at him that he barely dodged with a small squeal), Azula took in the sight previously behind her. The avatar was glowing.

What's more...the young boy, in his divine state, was openly fearful.

The young monk's eyes were wide open, horrified as he watched his opponent's treacherous element turn upon its master. The smell of burning flesh quickly filled the cavern.

Her brother had, apparently, set himself on fire.

_...surprise_

_...disbelief_

_...acceptance_

...Maybe they weren't siblings after all.

* * *

**Skepsis**


	2. Metamorphosis

**Summary:** The crone spoke softly, "There was, millennia ago, a Fire Lord whose inner turmoil was inconceivable. It was said that he experienced a metamorphosis. A cocoon of flames devoured him. What emerged was..."

**A/N:** I might change the rating to M, I've been having the urge to use "powerful" language lately. Adult themes are always nice too, I can empathize with you perverts!

* * *

Metamorphosis

_His skin was freezing..._but melted.

_His blood became solid_...but boiled.

_His heart stopped beating_...but miraculously continued to sustain itself.

Zuko stood there, consumed by the torrents of his own manifested fire; colder than he'd ever been in his life. Compared to his current hypothermic agony, the freezing waters of the north were absolutely _delightful_.

Was it crazy for a firebender to set himself on fire to save his life? For if he didn't, he would surely die from his inner torment. It wasn't psychological, no, he was just _cold._

Really, that was it.

Nevertheless, he pushed harder, clenching his hands and grinding his teeth, feeding his element with emotion (after all, emotion is what determines a benders potential and control is what dictates his or her ability) to strengthen the fire in order to warm himself, for if he didn't, the lethal chill that had found him would soon end him.

_Rage_, it filled the vast majority of his heart. His anger fed the flames swirling around him, conflagrating the orange blaze into an awe-inspiring inferno. His limitations infuriated him. His banishment enraged him. His life and its circumstances incensed his wrath. His wrath made him what he was.

His element, nourished by rage, licked away his hair and quickly incinerated his black locks. His vision had long since been black but now he felt his eyes being burned away. Why was he still so, excruciatingly cold?

Yes, he knew he was blind, but the small relief from the iciness was well worth his vision.

However, he saw. He viewed the world in a different, indescribable, inconceivable manner. It was superior to normal perceptions in every perceivable way. Perhaps this was how spirits and gods viewed the world...through this omnipotent scope.

_Hate_, a sinister feeling, allowed him to exert great volumes of flames. He screamed with abhorrence and the flames surrounding him brewed in to a fully fledged fire storm that crackled wildly, hugging anything and everything for sustenance.

His flesh sizzled, causing bodily fluids to spew forward.

_"Like bacon..."_ he thought, disgusted, as the flames did little to warm himself from his inner iciness. His skin, he mused, had begun to turn black with what seemed to be random patches of dried blood developing along his body.

_Love_, undoubtedly the supreme benevolent emotion, gave way to new revelation. His feelings that he held for his Uncle, his father, and yes, even his sister, allowed him to direct the flames. Concentrating it down to a purer form—blue fire, an incredibly powerful feat gained through control (or apathy in Azula's case), surrounded him. His flesh almost immediately disintegrated in to ash from the tremendous heat.

He realized, after a moment, that he was merely a charred skeleton. His bones stood there, conscious, alone, and exuding an intense (but oddly subtle) orange glow as incredible amounts of thermal energy absorbed themselves into his frame. And yet this was a relief. He loved it!

The frosty sensation that frenzied and inhibited him finally took its first steps of retreat!

_Empathy_, a newly discovered sensation, pulsed through his being. The water tribe girl, her suffering was like his, and it washed away his egocentric apathy. The flames began to flicker white, a new level of heat that had not been seen in centuries, began to develop around him in small shimmers.

His onyx skeleton began to splinter, small pieces of bone cracked off violently.

_Betrayal_, it was something he knew well. His father, his sister, his mother, his uncle...everyone in his life had abandoned him, scarred him, and fought against him. Even now, his uncle assisted the water peasant, desperately defending her from the flames that swirled around the prince.

She was his enemy; she kept him from his single goal in life! He wanted, no, _needed_ his family's love! And yet, she and his uncle were determined to hold him back, hold him down. Drown him in dishonour. Suffocate him with shame.

_Loyalty_, it had left him. Such a foolish, idiotic concept! Who believed in it? His uncle's loyalty to him was worth nothing. His father's—nothing! His sister's?

_Ha! That was rich._

_Right and wrong_, he realized, had nothing to do with loyalty. So, naturally, loyalty had nothing to do with right and wrong. They were independent of one another, independent of everything. No one knew what was right! No one knew what was wrong! Not his father, not the avatar, not his uncle—_no one_!

But he knew.

That's why, when the flames began to overwhelm his uncle, he understood that it wasn't wrong. Ultimately, it would assist him in his efforts to do right. Something that he (and only he) _could_ do!

The flickering white flames quickly ignited, splintering his being. His skeleton began to chip at an accelerated rate. Soon, he realized without concern, he would be nothing but dust in the wind.

He screamed.

No, it wasn't from pain; it wasn't from fear—he screamed in pleasure, ecstasy even. He was assuaging the great chill that possessed his core, surrounding himself in fiery comfort. The white flames provided, after all, marvellous relief.

His skeletons whole, after enduring unimaginable heat, finally broke.

Thousands of fragments flew apart, ceasing projectile motion for a single instant, before turning to ash.

He, Prince Zuko, was no more. But something stood in his place, stoic and blank.

He had evolved, transformed, malformed even...in to something different, something inimitable.

When the flames subsided, the apprehensively induced silence of the room was ruptured by the blood curdling shrieks of its occupants.

The metamorphosis was complete, he had changed.

* * *

**Skepsis**


End file.
